


Vice

by andtheheir



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Backstory, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:52:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andtheheir/pseuds/andtheheir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was reckless, Irvin knew, and he knew, at this point, it would be his fault if something happened to him, but his skin was warm in the cold underground and Levi’s toe had pushed against his beneath the table. And Irvin was nothing if not insatiable. He had come down here to find Levi and he had found him, but finding him was not enough and he questioned if it had been enough in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vice

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of contradicts my other backstory, but when I saw the way Irvin looked at Levi in the preview for their spin off manga, I couldn't really resist, hah. Also I can't decide on how I like to spell Levi's name? Anyway, enjoy!

There was danger in not knowing. Irvin knew this all too well; that’s why he did what he did, why he, every day, ventured past the safety of the walls that he had known his entire life and into enemy lines. Not knowing was why said enemies were dangerous, because he—the entire human race— didn’t know them, didn’t know their weaknesses and ignorance was almost never bliss. Ignorance was lethal and Irvin always strived to be one step ahead of where he was, strived to know his situation more than anyone else.   
  
Yes, Irvin knew the dangers of not knowing, but he also knew that, sometimes, danger was necessary. And beyond that, sometimes it was thrilling. Intoxicating. His blood ran hot as he stepped below ground, into the underground tunnels of a city that he hardly knew, as he stepped further away from the safety of the stairs leading above ground and further into the cold, dim corridors of streets. His pulse was quick as he slipped his hands into his black jacket—he had thought it wise to ditch his military uniform for the night—and walked along the line of shops built into the sheetrock of the city above, dipped his shoulders as patrons passed him. He passed the flickering candles anchored to the fronts of the shops and his eyes caught the windows of shops as he went, and he went until he found what he was looking for. The dark red door of a bar entitled—well, Irvin looked up and saw that the wooden sign across the top of the door had worn away. The only building he knew of the underground city; he recognized it from days before, had made a note of it days before. The brass doorknob rattled as he gripped it and went inside.   
  
Irvin parted his lips and breathed in the smoky air. He shuddered, touched his breast pocket to make sure that he had a pack for himself and, indeed, he did. He slipped silently past those hovering around the door, slipped between full tables, until he found a spot in the back at an empty table for two. With his back to the corner, he sat down and looked over the bar, relaxed into his chair. Eyes glanced his direction, but only until he caught them with his own, then they quickly averted. Even without his uniform, he still looked a bit too kept to blend in, but that had been half of his intention. The hot air around him helped relax the line of his shoulders and he slipped his fingers into his pocket and took hold of his pack of cigarettes. A server came by and he politely declined a drink. The hum of the patrons around him rose, as if they had hushed as he had entered and only now had become used to his presence.   
  
As he tipped his head sideways and ignited his lighter, brought it to the end of the cigarette perched between his thin lips, he caught a gaze across the bar and this one didn’t look away. The end of his cigarette flared and his chest tightened; he had found what he had been looking for. Whom he had been looking for. The man with dark hair and dark eyes and the skill of a soldier.   
  
Irvin snapped his lighter shut and slipped it back into the pocket of his slacks. He inhaled, breathed the smoke down his throat and it burned until it felt cold. The man at the bar watched him and Irvin knew that he had recognized him, too. Irvin took the cigarette between his index and middle finger and plucked it from his lips, breathed out smoke that drifted from his lips and disappeared into the heavy air around them. The man, with his hand over the top of his glass and fingers tight around the lip of the glass, took a drink.   
  
Calmly, slowly, the man slipped from the bar and disappeared beneath the heads of those around him. Irvin’s eyes flicked towards the door and he waited, expecting the man to run.   
  
But then the man was before him, his drink one hand and he took the chair opposite Irvin in the other. This man, with shadows across his eyes and lips and dim highlights over his cheekbones and straight nose, took the seat across from Irvin and regarded Irvin darkly through the smoke. This man, about whom Irvin knew next to nothing, and Irvin licked the traces of nicotine from his lips.   
  
“What’s your name?” Irvin asked, his voice like the smoke on which he spoke, and just loud enough to be heard over the rest of the bar.   
  
“What time is it?” the man asked, his eyes fixed upon Irvin and Irvin felt them trying to read him. Trying.   
  
Irvin set the cigarette back in his lips and pinched the sleeve of his shirt to pull it back. “Twenty-two,” he said as he glanced at his watch, the cigarette moving with his lips. He took another drag and turned his head sideways before he exhaled. He, too, kept his gaze fixed upon the man across from him. “What’s your name?”   
  
“Levi,” the man—Levi—said. He set his glass upon the table and curled both hands around it. “And yours, Squad Leader?”   
  
Irvin strived to be one step ahead of his situation but, again, danger was like the first cigarette he had ever smoked and he grinned in the corners of his lips. “Irvin,” he said.   
  
“Irvin,” Levi murmured and Irvin didn’t hear the word, but he watched as Levi’s lips moved around it. Levi then spoke again so Irvin could hear, “Are you here to recruit me? To drag me into your war?”   
  
“Are you interested?”   
  
“No.” Definite.   
  
“Then no.” Irvin watched the way Levi’s throat moved as he swallowed.   
  
“Then what are you drinking?” Levi said and Irvin brought the cigarette towards his lips.   
  
“Nothing, thank you,” he murmured against it. “Would you like a cigarette?”   
  
“No.”   
  
Silence fell between them and Irvin again was aware of the loud conversations around them. Levi’s eyes looked black in the lighting of the candles that lined the cracked walls— black and hard and set upon him and Irvin knew that he should feel threatened. Levi, after all, had him cornered; in setting his back against the wall, he had given himself no ways out. No escape. Irvin tipped his head up, leaned back in his chair, and again set the cigarette between his lips. His nerves ignited. Levi held his glass near his lips and didn’t move.   
  
“Why are you here?” Levi finally murmured and Irvin leaned forward; Levi set his glass down and leaned back.   
  
“You, I admit,” Irvin said and closed his lips around the cigarette. Breathed in, breathed out the smoke through his nose. “Part of me was hoping for a new recruit.”   
  
“And the other part?”   
  
Irvin paused and watched the firm line of Levi’s lips. Briefly, before he flicked his eyes up again to look at Levi’s narrow eyes, watching him as if waiting for him to make a move, the wrong move. “I’d hoped to at least commend you on your admirable skill,” Irvin said, the grin gone from his lips.   
  
Levi’s thin eyebrow twitched. “’Commend’ me?” he murmured and Irvin tilted his head sideways, trying to better hear the low tones of Levi’s voice, and kept his gaze upon Levi from the corner of his eye. “You left the comfort of your outside world to ‘commend’ me?” Levi’s voice was cool, but thin.   
  
“It’s not often I’m impressed by the skill of anyone other than my own men,” Irvin said and faced Levi again. “In fact, I’m not sure it’s ever happened before you.”   
  
“They’d be glad to know that their skill compares to someone like me,” Levi said with the smallest trace of a grin and a tilt in his voice that caught Irvin and drew him closer. “I’m almost surprised you aren’t here to take me in for unauthorized ownership of military gear.”   
  
“Our own police sell that equipment on the black market,” and Irvin noticed a flicker in the shadows of Levi’s eyes. “You’re not the only one who has gotten their hands on it.”   
  
“I didn’t buy it from the police,” Levi said curtly, his voice wound tight, and Irvin’s interest piqued. “I would never do anything to support those swine.”   
  
Somewhere to Irvin’s right a glass shattered and neither of them flinched, neither of them looked. Irvin wasn’t sure he could look away from Levi if he wanted to, he barely dared to blink, afraid he’d look away and the fire in Levi’s eyes would extinguish—or, on the other hand, flare out and take him, burn him. His blood was rushing in his ears, over the sound of those around them, and he was sure the frame of his body was moving with the hard beat of his heart. His fingers were steady as he brought his cigarette to his lips again.   
  
“Why haven’t you left yet?” Irvin said and Levi broke eye contact, closed his eyes and tipped his head back to down the rest of his drink. His adam’s apple moved as he did so; his throat looked long and Irvin stared.   
  
“Because,” Levi said and slammed his glass down onto the wooden table with a loud thud before he tipped his head back down, down further than before, and stared at Irvin from beneath shadows, “I hadn’t finished my drink yet.”   
  
“Are you going to run now?” Irvin asked and took the final drag of his cigarette. He put it out against the table, smeared the soot of the butt beside several other black stains across the wood. Levi watched his fingers as he twisted what was left of the cigarette.   
  
Beneath the table, the toe of Irvin’s boot rested against Levi’s.   
  
“No,” Levi said, unshaken, “you’d follow me.”   
  
“Is that why you didn’t run when you first saw me?”   
  
“Partly,” Levi admitted quietly and leaned forward in his chair, folded his fingers over the table. The collar of his dark shirt dipped and Irvin saw the slope of his collarbone.   
  
“And the other part?”   
  
Levi regarded him for a long, quiet moment, held Irvin at full attention. “I was interested in what you had to say. Why you were here in the first place.”   
  
Beneath the table, Levi’s foot moved, moved his toe down the side of Irvin’s foot. Not far, just far enough for Irvin to know that it wasn’t by accident, and something hot gripped his stomach.   
  
“And besides,” Levi added as Irvin’s lips parted to say something, “I’ve never had the attention of an officer who didn’t want to arrest me.”   
  
“How do you know I don’t want to arrest you?”   
  
“I saw the way you looked at me a few days ago,” Levi murmured, his breath distorting the smoke around his lips, “and I see the way you’re looking at me now.”   
  
With that, Levi stood, pushed the chair back as he did so. Irvin looked up the frame of his body, over his throat, jaw, until he met Levi’s eyes again. Levi turned and went towards the door slowly, maneuvering through the bodies and the tables, and Irvin stood as well. Maneuvered and followed.   
  
Outside, the brick, dank sky stood tall and black in the shadows and Levi walked beneath it, walked past the shops and candles that Irvin has passed on his way to the bar. Irvin followed a couple paces back and noticed the way Levi moved, noticed the slight hunch with which he held his broad shoulders, noticed the quiet scuff in the way he didn’t quite pick his feet entirely off the ground when he walked. Noticed the bend of his knees when he moved and Irvin remembered that day, not too long ago, when he had seen Levi spring from the ground, from the walls of the street, and move through the air with the grace with which most couldn’t even walk.   
  
Levi turned the corner and led Irvin down a path that Irvin had never seen before, a path darker than the last. Then another, this one darker as well, until Irvin was following, at best, a shadow. Irvin’s shoulders tensed, the danger prominent around him because he was following this man—Levi, that was the only thing of substance Irvin knew here—unarmed and into an entirely unfamiliar area, into an area perfect for an ambush. This was reckless, Irvin knew, and he knew, at this point, it would be his fault if something happened to him, but his skin was warm in the cold underground and Levi’s toe had pushed against his beneath the table. And Irvin was nothing if not insatiable. He had come down here to find Levi and he had found him, but finding him was not enough and he questioned if it had been enough in the first place.   
  
One more corner and, through the darkness, Levi approached the soft glow of a lantern that illuminated the single step of a complex built into the brick wall of the street. Irvin’s throat still burned from his cigarette and he watched as Levi stepped up into the light, glanced towards where he stood, and then disappeared into the building. Irvin stepped up onto the concrete step and slipped inside, caught sight of Levi turning the corner at the top of the flight of concrete stairs. He followed, passed by gashes and crumblings of the brick walls and through the dull glow above the the stairwell, and turned the same corner, found himself faced with a wooden door numbered ‘27’ and propped open just a crack.   
  
Irvin stopped outside the door, eyed the rust collecting in the corners of the metal numbers. Stopped for only a moment and when he reached out to push the door open, his fingers were steady but his nerves were wired.   
  
He slipped inside and found himself in a small room—apartment— and the first thing he noticed was the stillness in the air. It was quiet, but not excessively so, which meant that he and Levi were truly alone. The light from the hallway spilled inside and Irvin saw cracked, wooden floors, a yellowing wall, and the neat sheets across a bed in the corner of the room. And Levi was waiting beside the door, Irvin realized, because once he was inside, Levi took the liberty of closing and clicking the lock shut behind him. With the door closed, darkness was thick around them and Irvin blinked, made sure his eyes were open. He spread his legs instinctively, bent his knees just enough, ready to move if he needed to.   
  
But he didn’t need to. The strike of a match and Irvin saw Levi a couple feet away, hovering above a candle on the wall with the flaming match in his fingers. The wick caught and Levi withdrew the match, shook it until it extinguished. Then he slipped the match back into the box and disappeared from the direct glow of the candle, but Irvin saw his shadow go towards the wall. He heard a drawer open, close.   
  
The diffused blaze of the candle fell upon most of the small room, stretched across the rotting wood beneath their feet, but couldn’t quite reach the walls. Irvin eyed the shadows of shelves upon the walls, topped with shadows of other things that Irvin couldn’t quite make out, eyed the kept, white sheets of Levi’s bed, the way his single pillow sat just out of reach from the flame. Eyed the 3D Manuever Gear in the corner, just beside where Levi stood, facing him, the toes of his boots the only part of him in the light of the room.   
  
“Now do you want something to drink?” Levi said quietly and crossed into the glow of the candle, then out of it, to the other side of the room, his back to Irvin. Irvin heard another drawer open and watched the shadows that fell in the dips of Levi’s shoulder blades.   
  
“No, thank you,” Irvin murmured, looked down the backs of Levi’s thighs.   
  
Levi grunted quietly. “Don’t drink? Afraid you’ll get a loose tongue and tell me things I shouldn’t know?”   
  
“Something like that,” Irvin said and the drawer closed; Levi stood again to full height and his shirt was taut across his shoulders. Loose at his lower back. “And you don’t smoke?”   
  
“No,” Levi said and turned towards Irvin, a wine bottle now caught in one hand and a small glass in the other. “Disgusting.”   
  
Levi approached Irvin again, stood a few feet away, beside the candle, and slowly sat. He set the glass on the floor and crossed his legs as he opened the bottle of wine. Irvin sat across from him, legs also crossed and the wood floor was cold through his pants. He wondered if Levi was cold. “Then why do you spend time at that bar?” he asked and the wine looked black as Levi poured it, as it first sloshed along the sides of the glass and then slowly rose with a quiet trickle.   
  
“I don’t,” Levi said quietly and tipped the bottle back up, cut the thread of wine pouring from it. He pushed the cork back into the mouth then set the bottle upon the floor with a quiet thud.   
  
It seemed that Irvin hadn’t been the only one looking for someone that night. Irvin inhaled slowly through his nose and watched the way the highlights of the candle moved over Levi’s hair, over his face when he tilted his head back and looked at Irvin from beneath the shadows of candle light. When he lifted the glass to his lips and took a slow sip. Irvin felt more aware than he had been even just moments ago, aware of everything outside him and everything inside him, the stillness of Levi’s small apartment and the heat moving through his muscles, his veins, bones, the tendons of his hands, and his fingers twitched.   
  
Levi drank quietly and Irvin watched his eyes—again, black in the thin lighting, and Irvin briefly pondered the true color of his eyes— then his throat.   
  
Glass empty, Levi set it down delicately beside the wine bottle, his eyes upon Irvin. Slowly, carefully, he straightened his legs and stood; Irvin did the same in an easy motion. Then Levi leaned sideways, towards the flickering candle and his eyes caught with Irvin’s. He parted his lips, and blew them into darkness.   
  
And Irvin didn’t breathe. Didn’t move. Didn’t blink.   
  
After several loud beats of his heart, fingers touched his chin, silently, then slipped across his jaw, and Irvin reached out, found with his fingertips Levi’s side. He curled his fingers around Levi’s ribs and Levi’s touch moved over his ear, to the back of his head, then pulled him down. First Levi’s lips found his cheek, then just beside his lips, and Irvin tipped his head to meet them.   
  
Levi kissed him with fervor and the dusk of red wine. Irvin ducked his head to better kiss Levi, his own mouth crisp with the taste of ashes and nicotine, and Levi’s body was small but heavy against his own. It wasn’t long before Irvin felt too hot in his jacket, before he felt the flush spread across his cheeks with the way Levi curled his fingers tightly in his hair and held him close. With the way he slipped his own fingers beneath the collar of Levi’s shirt and felt the dip of his collarbone. Irvin stepped forward, his thigh slipping between Levi’s, and Levi stepped back, then Irvin forward, Levi backward, until Levi grunted and found himself cornered between the wall and Irvin’s body. Levi arched from the wall, his breath hot and heavy in Irvin’s mouth and his hands moved to push the jacket down Irvin’s shoulders. Irvin’s hips pinned Levi’s to the wall; Irvin’s breath caught and Levi moaned.   
  
Irvin’s hands moved up and down Levi’s sides, down and beneath the hem of Levi’s shirt then up again, up the skin over Levi’s muscles, even as Levi pushed insistently on his jacket. When Levi arched, Irvin touched the dip of his spine, remembered the way Levi could move and pushed his fingertips against the muscles of Levi’s back, wishing he could see just how much Levi could move. Just how far he could bend.   
  
With sharp movements, Levi gripped Irvin’s wrists and pushed them from his body, then pulled again at his jacket. Irvin grinned against Levi’s lips, a breathless laugh slipping from his mouth and across Levi’s tongue as he reached back and pulled his jacket from his sleeves. Levi bit hard at Irvin’s lip and Irvin twitched, growled, and bit back until Levi snarled. The sound sent Irvin’s head into a spin.   
  
Irvin dropped the jacket and heard the muffled thud of the bottle falling over. Levi went rigid against him, briefly, then Irvin ducked his head and mouthed Levi’s neck and the tension fled his body on a shuddering breath.   
  
Irvin bit and kissed the roughest of sounds from Levi’s throat and he curled his fingers in the bottom hem of Levi’s shirt, pulled it up over Levi’s chest. He felt the tug at his own shirt but Irvin couldn’t quite figure out where Levi’s hands were, where they were pulling. Somewhere along the line, Irvin couldn’t exactly remember when, his breathing had gone hot and fast and heavy and he pulled back, pushed Levi’s shirt up and up until Levi lifted his arms and Irvin pushed the shirt off. He dropped it, too, and it landed on the floor in a quiet huff that was lost beneath the sounds of their breathing.   
  
“Yours too,” Levi hissed before Irvin’s hands could fall upon Levi’s body. Irvin obliged, his fingers deft and quick in the buttons of his shirt and he felt himself blink but couldn’t really tell that he had.   
  
“Is this what you wanted?” Irvin breathed and Levi moaned; Irvin realized that his mouth had come close to Levi’s ear. He bit, found the shell of Levi’s ear, and Levi shuddered against him. “When you went to that bar tonight, is this what you wanted in the end?”   
  
“No,” Levi said, his voice low and rough and Irvin’s shirt dropped similarly to Levi’s.   
  
“Then what did you want?” Irvin pressed and his fingers curled around Levi’s sides, moved up and over the bumps of his ribs. “What do you want?”   
  
“We’re not there yet,” Levi murmured and Irvin felt his hands over his chest. Running over his skin until they pushed, pushed him back, and he followed them. Followed them as Levi pushed and pushed—he nearly stumbled when the heel of his boot caught one of their shirts—until the backs of his knees hit the edge of Levi’s bed. And Levi pushed him just a bit further and he sat.   
  
Levi’s hands slipped through his hair and Irvin moved his fingertips over Levi’s stomach, over his hips, to the dimples of his lower back, then leaned in and mouthed over the taut skin on Levi’s abdomen.   
  
In the dark, he wondered if Levi had bruises over his body like he did. If he had lines over his chest, his shoulders, thighs, from the harness of the maneuver gear. He held Levi close with one hand on Levi’s lower back then moved the other up, up Levi’s spine until he felt the ridges of a scar, just beneath Levi’s shoulder blade. He fingered it, wondered if it was red and fresh or white and distant. When he tilted his head and bit Levi’s skin, Levi growled quietly, curled his fingers tighter in Irvin’s hair. Curled them even tighter when Irvin moved his hands and plucked the button of Levi’s pants open, then the zipper.   
  
Irvin’s fingers spread across the hem of Levi’s pants, moved over Levi’s pockets, and he caught the shape of a blade in Levi’s pocket.   
  
And this was reckless, Irvin knew this, reckless and his head went dizzy with adrenaline, dizzy and hot, and Levi had been waiting for him at the bar, waiting and expecting him, but now Levi was moaning and panting above him and Irvin felt as if he couldn’t leave if he tried. Felt as if he was breathing in the suffocating heat of smoke, as if he had, once more, found his favorite vice. He hooked his fingers in Levi’s pants and pushed them down Levi’s hips.   
  
Then Levi was gone, but not far; Irvin could hear him panting and the rustling of his clothing. Irvin listened for only a second before he undid his own pants and simultaneously toed off his boots. He shuddered as the cool air of Levi’s apartment fell across his hot skin and, with the rest of his clothes a pile on the floor, he pushed himself further onto the bed, froze—his hands upon the bed behind him, his legs bent before him— when he heard another drawer open, close. Didn’t move as the bed shifted beneath him, didn’t move, even as Levi’s fingers slipped over his knee, coaxed his knee to the side. Only moved when Levi’s body slid between his legs, then up and over his; Irvin let himself lie back onto the bed and pushed one hand back through Levi’s hair and touched Levi’s back with the other. Levi’s lips were on his again and Irvin kissed him hard, hard until the insides of his lips pushed against his teeth.   
  
Levi’s body was, once more, small but heavy against Irvin’s and Irvin bent his knees around Levi’s thighs. Irvin tasted the alcohol on the hot breaths that fell from Levi’s mouth and into his; he knew Levi tasted the ashes on the breaths that pushed from Irvin’s mouth when he mumbled, “You taste like shit.”   
  
Irvin arched, pushed his hips against Levi’s; Levi groaned a stuttering sound and Irvin breathed a moan. Irvin’s skin ignited when Levi’s hips rocked against his own, ignited and Irvin found it harder and harder to think. He moved his hands down to hold Levi’s ass and Levi’s fingers curled around his shoulder. The air around them had grown hot and thick and difficult to breathe in and Irvin held Levi close, closer. His eyes were wide open but he only wished that he could see the shape of Levi’s lips around his moans, the flush of his hot skin, the marks that Irvin had left across his neck just minutes before, if he’d left any. Irvin wished he could see these things, but the thick darkness around them seemed to catch their heat and hold it, kept it close to their bodies until Irvin felt sweat bead across his skin and beneath his hands, over Levi’s skin.   
  
Levi ducked—Irvin imagined the dip of his shoulder as he did so—and bit the side of Irvin’s neck, held on until Irvin’s breath stopped short and the pain of Levi’s teeth settled like a thick smoke in his already dizzy mind. He gasped when Levi relented and Levi’s hips pulled away from his. He felt Levi sit up between his legs and he reached out, touched Levi’s thighs. Irvin tried to listen as he felt the bed shift, but Levi was silent.   
  
Silent until a breathless moan that threaded tightly through Irvin’s stomach and Irvin breathed out. He grit his teeth together, purposefully breathed through his nose to better hear Levi. And the bed shifted a bit more and Levi’s breathing went erratic and rigid and audible with grunts and groans and Irvin closed his eyes. Spread his fingers over Levi’s thighs.   
  
The next sound was long and dripped from Levi’s lips and Irvin swore he felt it pour onto his skin, pool on his stomach. Then the one after was short, interrupted with the gasp of a breath and Irvin moved one hand from Levi’s thigh, up his body, until he found Levi’s arm bent behind him. He sat up, just enough to follow Levi’s arm, to touch his wrist, to touch his palm that rested across his ass, to find his wet knuckles bent, his fingertips inside himself. Irvin’s blood was loud inside him and it drowned out Levi’s breathing.   
  
Irvin sat up and gripped Levi’s hips. Levi’s moans now fell upon Irvin’s ears and Irvin heard the plains and ridges of Levi’s breathing. He heard it when Levi’s fingers stroked across his prostate. Heard it and turned his head, caught the gasp from Levi’s lips.   
  
“You want me to fuck you?” Irvin murmured against Levi’s lips, his breath colliding with Levi’s. He moved one hand back through Levi’s hair, felt the heat of his scalp and the sweat gathering at his hairline.   
  
“I’m going to ride you,” Levi said like shards of glass.   
  
Levi’s breathing trembled; Irvin heard when Levi pulled his fingers from himself.   
  
“And that’s what you wanted from the start?” Irvin breathed and Levi didn’t respond, not verbally. His lips against Irvin’s, he breathed in the words, then paused, shuddered against Irvin, and then took Irvin’s lower lip between his. Then pushed his tongue against Irvin’s, then bit, and Irvin’s lips felt wet and sore.   
  
Levi spread his fingers over Irvin’s chest and shoved Irvin back against the mattress. More shifting and Irvin felt as if his heartbeat could shake the bed. His toes curled as Levi’s fingertip moved up the inside of his thigh and to his cock, then the heat of Levi’s wet hand was around Ihim, stroking, and Irvin’s lashes shuddered and he arched from the bed.   
  
When Levi withdrew, it was too soon and left Irvin’s body trembling. A rough groan slipped from Irvin’s lips and he stared down his cheeks, felt more shifting yet. Levi’s calves pressed against either of his hips and before Irvin could touch them, Levi was sitting himself onto Irvin’s cock and Irvin’s fingers took hold of the bed sheets and pulled. The heat of Levi around him was beyond suffocating, it was smothering and Irvin felt as if he couldn’t breathe if he tried. His spine bowed and he stared at Levi through dark eyes, but missed the way Levi’s back arched into a similar shape. He missed the way Levi’s jaw slackened, the way his head tipped back and his bangs fell heavily over his closed eyes. He missed these things, but he heard the serrated sound that poured from Levi’s mouth and he felt the way Levi’s body twitched once he had full seated himself.   
  
Sweat dripped down Irvin’s temples and towards his ears. And Levi began to move, lifting and lowering himself in short, slow motions for the time being, and Irvin felt entirely too big for his skin. The air he breathed in was stale, thick with the heat of their motions, and he swiftly let go of the sheets to latch his fingers around Levi’s hips. Levi’s hot and damp hands rested on his body, just beneath his ribs.   
  
Levi moved faster, deeper, until the bed creaked beneath the weight of their movements and both of them groaned, Irvin’s breathless and like the smoke he had grown addicted to, and Levi’s like the silk of black wine from the bottle. Irvin’s hips jerked and he began to follow Levi’s motions, moving opposite them to drive himself deeper into Levi and he didn’t see the way Levi’s shoulders crumpled forward, closer towards Irvin, but he felt Levi’s weight fall into his hands upon his skin.   
  
“You couldn’t arrest me,” Levi breathed and Irvin’s breath stopped to better hear Levi’s words, “even if you wanted to.”   
  
“No?” Irvin grunted and arched from the bed, his dizzy mind collecting itself enough to speak.   
  
“No,” and Levi’s voice sounded distant, as if he was speaking to someone else, “squad leader.”   
  
Irvin clutched Levi’s hips tighter, pushed his thumbs into the bones beneath Levi’s skin. “If I thought you enough of a threat, I could request it,” he said on a breath and then inhaled sharply; he forgot what he had just said.   
  
Like the dark wine first surged and swirled up the curve of the glass, a groan passed through Levi’s lips.   
  
Then Irvin took one hand from Levi’s hip and propped himself up on one elbow, grunting as he thrust up harder into Levi. He felt the edges of Levi’s breaths falling upon his skin and he took his other hand from Levi’s hip, curled his fingers around Levi’s jaw, and pulled Levi down into a hard kiss. Their hips faltered, but only briefly, and then their bodies were moving against each other, and Irvin wasn’t sure if they were both sweating. Levi’s breathing and moans fell apart as they fled into Irvin’s lips.   
  
And Irvin’s mind was distant, far, far away, and his heart shoved against the frame of his body, and his blood was alight, and Irvin swore somewhere inside himself that he would never touch another cigarette for as long as he lived.   
  
He came inside Levi and his arm gave way beneath him; he fell back onto the bed, arched towards Levi, and the rest of him escaped on the short breath that left his lips and disappeared into Levi’s. Levi, with a few strokes of his own cock, came just a bit later and Irvin groaned in his throat as Levi tensed around his cock.   
  
Slowly, Irvin felt his body settle back to how it had been. He felt his mind calm, his heart slow, and the blaze inside him burn out into ashes. Atop him, he felt the tight muscles of Levi’s body relax, relax against him.   
  
Everything, including themselves, was dark and still and Irvin exhaled a silent breath, set his arms upon the mattress at his sides.   
  
A long moment later, Levi carefully sat up and Irvin felt his body shake as he pulled himself off of Irvin’s cock.   
  
“If you have nowhere else to be,” Levi breathed, his voice hoarse, and Irvin felt the mattress beside him dip, “you can stay over. As long as you leave in the morning.” The bed shifted a bit further and Irvin tilted his head, smelt the crisp, fresh scent of Levi’s bedding. He shuddered when Levi ran a cloth across his stomach, cleaned the come from his skin as best as he could in the darkness.   
  
Levi’s bed was average-sized at best and Irvin fell asleep with his head on the same pillow as Levi’s, with his chest pressed against Levi’s shoulder blades, and with his fingertips curled loosely on the bed between their bodies. His watch was still on his wrist.   
  
Fell sleep and then woke up silently some time later when the bed dipped and then lifted. He woke up but didn’t move and instead listened, listened as Levi struck a match and the insides of his eyelids were then a dark crimson. Rustling; Irvin imagined Levi slipping into his pants. Then nothing, nothing except the increasing beat of Irvin’s heart, the tightening of his insides, the rushing of his blood through his veins.   
  
Nothing until he heard it, the quiet yet unmistakable whine of a blade being released from the confines of its case.   
  
Reckless, entirely too reckless, and then there was nothing again and Irvin imagined Levi standing above him, his black eyes upon the line of Irvin’s throat, a blade in his fingers. Imagined the orange glint of the flickering candle across the blade.   
  
Irvin lied there, still, played dead, waited for Levi to make a move, make the wrong move.   
  
But all that came was another whine, this time of a blade disappearing back into the confines of his case.   
  
The insides of Irvin’s eyelids once again fell black. He didn’t hear Levi’s footsteps, but he heard the click of the lock, heard the door open, close. He opened his eyes—blinked once, just to make sure—and had meant to leave soon, anyway.   
  
\-   
  
Levi, too, knew the dangers of not knowing. That’s why he had known. Known Irvin, known about him.   
  
He closed his door quietly behind him trudged down the crumbling steps of his apartment complex, the switch blade small in his palm. He slid his thumb over its smooth metal outside and he knew that he’d see Irvin again.


End file.
